Finnick's Victory
by Ivy Milligan-Winchester
Summary: Finnick Odair was a good kid, with a loving mom, a best friend. But the Hunger Games ruined that for him. What will happen to him?


BOOM! The cannon sounded once, twice, three times, counting the dead at the end of the first day in the Arena. How did I get into this mess? I'll tell you from the beginning.  
My name is Finnick Odair, Fourth District. I am a competitor in the Hunger Games.

Early that morning, I woke up screaming from a nightmare. The Reaping was hard on me every year, but this nightmare was harsher than any I'd ever had before. I guess that was a sign. An omen. I'd been planning to skip town and escape for weeks, but I just couldn't leave my mother yet. Not on Reaping Day. I gathered my wits, and walked out the door, leaving my still sleeping mother. She could rest for now, but I knew I'd never get back to sleep.  
Walking to the lake shore, I breathed in the familiar scent of fish and salt, seaweed, and...the stink of a Peacekeeper boat, coming straight towards me. "Hey, kid!" One of them shouted. I recognized the voice immediately. One of the old bullies in District 4, Silas Weatherhome had left the district to become a Peacekeeper, more brutal than any of the other ones. I closed my blue eyes against the wave of dizziness from the fumes as the boat stalled at the dock. "You shouldn't be out this early, Finnick!" Silas taunted in a singsong voice. I wished desperately that today was any day other than Reaping Day. I was in no mood for this, my stomach was starting to ache, and my head had been spinning without the help of the gas. "Please leave me alone." I said in my most polite voice to Silas. He stopped taunting me, and instead got out of the Peacekeeper boat and stepped up to me, glaring at me with dark gray eyes. "You know what's going to happen today?" Said Silas with a sneer. My calm personality slipped away. "What are you gonna do, Silas?" I asked, knowing full well that we were to address Peacekeepers only by their last names. I paid the price, too. Silas backhanded me across the face so hard that I slipped in the soft sand, cutting my arm open on a sharp rock. It was deep too, but I didn't really care afterwards; it was a small price to pay compared to the one Silas had in store for me. "Just you wait, Odair." Silas snarled. "Your life will be miserable." I stepped up to Silas and shoved him back, hands slipping on his sleek white suit. "What can YOU possibly do to me, Silas?" I asked. Silas pushed me one more time, and this time I didn't get up. I couldn't.  
Silas sped away on his boat, and I scrambled up, grabbing my arm, feeling blood pour down it. I couldn't go home now. My mother would have a fit. After my father died...Mother doesn't like the sight, color, even the word...blood. And, for than matter, neither did I. My stomach started to ache, if possible, even more, and I knew if I didn't get help soon I would spend the Reaping puking.  
No, there was only one place I had to go now, but judging by the fast-rising sun, I had to get there soon.  
I ran as fast as my throbbing head and stomach would allow, and finally I reached the house of my best (and only) friend Moss Bendant. I knocked on the door, knowing full well that she would be up and about. After what seemed like two minutes of knocking, I was ready to faint from the sight of my blood. Thankfully, Moss opened the door just then, and I half fell into her small house. "Finnick!" She cried, taking in the sight of my bloody arm, and pale face. "What happened?!" I managed to choke out, "S-Sila-" before I ran to the sink and threw up the small breakfast I had managed to choke down that morning. Moss lay a hand on my back, reassuring me. "It's going to be okay, Finnick. The odds are in your favor." I wiped my mouth on a dishrag while Moss bound my arm. "Now you can go back home." She said with a smile. "Thanks." I answered glumly. I knew that the odds were not in Moss's favor at all; she had fourty-eight tesserae in all; she was one of the poorest people, I think, in District 4. As always, she seemed to know what I was thinking. "I'll pull through." She said, brushing a strand of blonde hair out if my face. "Meanwhile," she said, deftly changing the subject, " We need to get you cleaned up."  
"It is Reaping Day, you know."

She and I walked back to my house, where my mom was up, pressing my clothes. I hugged her, and she smiled at me and Moss. Mother didn't talk much after my dad's...accident. I changed quickly, and sat down at the breakfast table as Moss brushed my hair with even, soft strokes. I'll admit, Moss did my hair better than than even my mother.

Moss and I had our fingers pricked at the Reaping, and we went to stand in our spots in the "corral". My stomach hurt again, but this time it was regular Reaping-Day jitters. A heavily bedazzled woman stepped up to the microphone, almost touching it with her purple-stained lips. "Welcome, District 4!" She said with an outrageous accent. I tuned out everything for the moment, and thought of nothing.  
My thoughts turned back to the Reaping, however, as the woman (didn't catch her name) picked a name out of the girl's bowl. Slowly, sadistically, she read the name on it.

"Moss Bendant."

My mind was in a numb shock as Moss walked up to the stage. Moss, who could 'deal with' and 'pull through' everything, was now a tribute.

"Finnick Odair."

I started as my name rang out...and then a piercing sound, two voices sounding as once, shouting, begging, one word. "NO!" My mother and Moss, from the stage, tears pouring down their faces. I was walked up to the stage, where I stood beside Moss. Suddenly, I felt something in all the numbness. Moss grabbed my hand, and in that way of hers, showed me that everything would be okay.  
Except it wouldn't this time. We were tributes.

As the woman finished the speech, Peacekeepers started to march forwards, to herd us to the gray building. However, everyone stopped short as Moss held up our hands, high so everyone could see.  
"People of District 4! We will be your victors!" Moss shouted, with all her might.

For the first time in what mist have been decades, District 4 cheered their tributes on.

Then, the good feeling passed. I felt a cold, Peacekeeper hand on my shoulder, and I turned to see Silas grinning through his helmet at me. As Moss went inside ahead of me, Silas whispered, "You know, people don't really know who they are until they're faced with a choice like this: would you die for her?"

Those words rang in my head forevermore.


End file.
